And Eureka Shot
by psychoticlittlesister
Summary: Diwata Ianovich, age twelve, didn't suppose that being shot and dragged to a camp would be too bad. But an older redneck just makes it hard for her to feel comfortable - and soon enough, she unravels emotions in the older that many didn't think he had.


_I think the site's name is pretty self-explanatory. I don't own the Walking Dead franchise or the characters, settings, organizations, and everything else from the franchise/show._

_Please keep note that this takes place in the TV show's universe. But because I'm setting this fan-fiction so far back to the beginning, I suppose I'm tweaking things for my personal benefit._

_I only own my original characters, Diwata Ianovich and her (mentioned) family._

_I may post a link of what Diwata looks like too; or make a profile for her and post the link onto my Bio page._

_I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's short, I'm sorry, but I suppose that's how it'll be for now. Things will be a little vague, at first._

**CHAPTER ZERO: the shot**

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><p>Diwata Ianovich was not aware that when the screaming and the gunshots had ended, then the undead would rule the streets of Atlanta. Maybe that was because she and her family had fled earlier than anyone else did. Before anyone else <em>could<em>.

'But that doesn't really matter now, did it?' The twelve-year old cynically chided her own self; 'Since everyone I know are most likely drooling freaks who feast on living's flesh now.'

A fight broke out earlier the previous day in Diwata's neighborhood; at first, everyone took it as a brash, mindless brawl between aggravated youngsters until they witnessed the provoker chewing on the helpless victim's arm. And that's when her family began to flee when other hid helplessly in their homes, calling for the police.

The family had moved into the neighborhood a month ago; Atlanta was mostly a rather peaceful city and did not really have restless communities until the week before the current "incident" occurring in Atlanta. Diwata was looking forward to finishing her Seventh Grade year. Look where that's going now, Dee.

Midst the chaos, Diwata had been separated from her family when a Walker had lumbered towards them, following the family (consisting of Diwata, her father, and her mother) into the woods (where in which, the family had enough balls to leave the city on foot; not enough people were infected or were fully Walkers to roam the streets into hordes).

The twelve-year old (and only child of the family) had been foolish enough to wander around alone – and to encounter the zombie herself with no company.

Wielding a wooden plank (for Christ's sakes), she managed to bash the Walker in the head enough times to kill it, avoiding her bloody demise. But now she could only walk, trying to find her parents. Or anyone – alive, that is.

Diwata had managed to devour the last of the melted fudge bar she had in her worn, faded blue jean's pockets. She really had nothing to eat – grass sounded appetizing, for a moment, and the river water for all she knew could be polluted with what germs and viruses the Walkers had in them.

The child strayed away from delving too deep into the woods. That was a big no-no. Areas with a large assortment of trees, capable of concealing Walkers, were big hot-spots for death. Diwata wasn't stupid.

She tried to go on the main-road; but there began to form a couple of Walkers around the road. She had to go in-between. She slept in secluded areas near the rivers (where the Walkers probably will have a hard time finding her), and she ate nothing. She had to look for her parents.

Stepping into a clearing, Diwata heard a 'ping'. It was faint, but it was audible. Maybe it was the trick of her ears, Diwata figured, shrugging as she continued to trudge past.

The pinging sound was closer. Then Diwata heard a squeak. A voice in her head told her to hold her breath and run back into the woods. Get away from plain sight. Play dead, or something.

And then Diwata felt something jab—no, pierce through her dark grey sweater and through the flesh of her shoulder. 'Shit.'

It was an arrow. The shape of the sharp weapon was what she last saw before she slinked back into darkness, her knees buckling as she grasped her wound – but she swore she heard a man yell, redneck voice and all,

"I caught a deer!"

And she was lulled to sleep.

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><p><em>I hope you enjoyed this prelude;<em>

**R&R, what do you think happened? Tell me in the reviews!**

**More information on Diwata will be revealed in the next chapter.**


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